Excerpt from draft of "Apostle to the Pygmies – The Doctor Jerry Galloway Story”
At the end of June, I participated in a fishing trip. The river we chose to fish in was a two and one-half hour walk from Ngondo Banga, Luba’s village. The fishing group prepared two hundred bank poles and took two kerosene lanterns. The trail to the river was incredibly narrow, winding through dense underbrush and swamps with low hanging limbs and all sorts of roots and vines on the ground to tangle your feet. Our group set off at a very quick pace, and I quickly learned to always look where I placed my feet, because there were vines, roots, thorns, army ants and more that could cause an injury.
When we arrived at the river, it was quite low, as the first part of the dry season had begun. We set up camp about one quarter mile from the river. The young men quickly cut small trees and constructed two beds with a fire between them. The beds were made by sticking four forked sticks in the ground and laying the small trees in the forks to make the frame. When they finished the stick bed, the boys smiled and exclaimed, “That’s your bed, Doc.”
“That is so kind of you, but I’d rather sleep on the smooth ground!” I responded.
A wave of disappointment came across their faces. “Oh, I was only kidding,” I quickly said with a nervous laugh. I would be happy to sleep on the bed!”
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